Like A Rose
by dangerous-fox
Summary: Draco gave up everything to be with Hermione, as Pansy did with Ron… but what happens if Ron and Hermione had simply been playing them all along? Slytherin’s Prince and Princess are back… and they want revenge… DMPP
1. Slytherin's Prince and Princess 'D

Like A Rose

dangerous-fox

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Disclaimer… I don't own any characters or settings that you recognise… the plot belongs to me.

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"Love is much like a rose; beautiful and calm, yet willing to draw blood in its defense"

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**--«-- Chapter One » Draco's POV --«-**

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I _detest_ her.

Walking… no, make that _storming_ down the corridor, I growl out the password to get into the Slytherin commonroom.

I _scorn_ her.

Stepping into the room, I slam my fist into the nearest object, which just happens to be the notice board. _Ow_! Damn those stupid pins…

I _can't stand_ her.

Rubbing my reddened and sore hand, I settle for kicking the nearest chair instead. Not caring whether it's occupied or not, I aim a swift kick to the wooden chair next to me. It snaps in half, sending Goyle crashing to the floor. By this stage, I'm beyond caring… not that I ever would've in the first place.

I _hate_ her.

Can you tell that I'm not in the best of moods right now? Hearing a snigger coming from the middle of the room, I glance up to see the other Slytherins watching me in amusement. I glare at them and spit out, "just what the fuck are you staring at?"

I _spurn _her.

A year ago, they would've been cowering under my glare and none would've dared to confront a Malfoy. Especially one in a pissed off mood… but that was a year ago, and this is _now_.

I _curse_ her.

"Ooh, I'm _so_ scared!" A burly fifth year Slytherin cries out in a mocking voice. I can't believe this! I'm a bloody _sixth_ year student, being disparaged and slandered by student _younger_ than I am! I take a menacing step closer, but he doesn't even flinch.

I _despise_ her.

He stares back coolly at me while a fourth year drawls, "whatcha gonna do, Malfoy? Face it… that filthy Mudblood has you tamed like a little lap dog. No ones intimidated by you anymore"

I bite back the instinctive urge to jump to my girlfriend's defense… what the hell am I saying? Make that _ex_-girlfriend. I turn to look at the fourth year, a venomous look in my eye, and am pleased to see that she does cower back the tiniest bit. A _fourth_ year student? That's worse than the _fifth_ year!

Without another word, I leave the main room and head for the cool stone steps that lead to the boys' dormitories. My eyes narrow as I hear some a muted comment and snide laughter trailing behind me. _This_ is what my life has become… a joke. One big, fucking joke… all because of _her_.

Hermione "I'm so perfect" Granger.

A know-it-all, snobby and bossy Mudblood… I hate her. At least, up until the fifth year. Up until Dumbledore decided to hold some special leadership training crap for Prefects, Quidditch Captains, Head Boys and Girls.

Preferring to push the thought out of my head, I push open the door to the dormitories and slam it shut behind me. Scanning the room, I'm relieved the find that it's empty… at least I _thought_ it was.

"What the fuck do you want?" I growl out, not in the mood for small talk.

"Now, now… is that anyway to speak to a lady?" Pansy Parkinson inquires in a silky voice from where she is leaning back against the headrest on my bed, one slim leg crossed over the other. Though her voice is casual, her emerald green eyes remain hard as ice.

"Lucky for me, I'm not talking to a lady," I snap, despite the fact that she is most definitely all lady with a model's body and all the curves in the right places. Loosening my Slytherin tie, I chuck it onto the bed beside her. I swear Pansy's eyes flashes a deeper shade of green as she glowers at me.

"What's the matter, Draco? Trouble in paradise?" she asks with a slight edge in her voice. I cringe, her words cutting deeper than I would've thought.

"Wouldn't you like to know…" I mutter darkly, pulling off my cloak and throwing it over my tie, "now, shall we address the question of what the hell a _girl_ is doing in the _boy's_ dormitory?"

Pansy snickers as she tosses her dark chocolate brown hair back over one shoulder. Unlike Granger's slightly wild and bushy hair, Pansy's is silky, rich and naturally straight. "Oh come on, are you telling me that _you_ have never been in a _girl's_ dormitories before?" she asks with a roll of her eyes.

"You know what, Parkinson?" I say, grabbing her arm and yanking her off the bed, "I'm really _not_ in the mood to talk right now. So why don't you hurl your pretty little ass back down those stairs and into your own bed?"

Pulling her arm free, Pansy twists around to face me with a slight smirk crossing her features. "Granger dumped you, didn't she?"

Pansy spat out the word _Granger_ as though it were poison and stood watching my reaction carefully. Feeling heat rush up the back of my neck, I stride over to the door and hold it open for Pansy. "If I were you, I'd leave right about now…" I say in a dangerously hushed voice.

"Yes, you would… wouldn't you?" she sneers, "If I were _you_… I never would've dated that filthy Mudblood"

"At least I would've had enough sense not to date _Weasley_, of all people!" I retort, spitting out Weasley's name as she had Granger. Pansy's pert, dark lips form a thin line as she crosses the room towards me and slams the door shut with the palm of her hand.

"Watch what you say," she warns in an icy tone, hand still firmly pressed against the door. Bad luck to anyone who may want to get in. "Leave _him_ out of this…"

"What exactly _is_ _this_?" I ask, before smirking slightly at her, "and I never knew you still harbored feelings for that Weasel… didn't he _dump _you last week?"

Pansy makes a move as if to slap me, but I raise my hand quickly to intercept hers. "Damn those stupid Quidditch reflexes…" she mutters under her breath as I cringe slightly at the mention of Quidditch, still not letting go off her wrist.

"Tell me what you want, Pansy, and go"

"So you can go wallow in self pity over how Granger dumped you?" she asks with a nasty look in her eyes.

"Like you did when Weasel dumped you?" I retort. Curiosity finally winning over my pride, I ask, "how did you know about Hermione and I?"

"What? That she dumped you?" Pansy asks innocently, as though she loves reminding me at every chance she gets. Come to think of it, she probably is enjoying this…

"Tell me or get out," I order.

"Fine, but let go of me first," she says, and I release my grip on her. Pulling her wrist free, she massages it as she glares at me, "when Ron dumped me, I knew it was only a matter of time before Granger would dump you"

"And why is that?" I query, realising that this is the first time that I've heard Pansy admit that Ron had dumped her. What can I say? Slytherin's have pride… and to get dumped by a Gryffindor is the lowest of all low. Actually, Hufflepuff may be slightly worse.

Pansy sighs and leans back against the wall of the dormitory. I'm surprised no one else has bothered to come up the stairs yet. "Because when he… _dumped_ me, he told me that Hermione was playing you the same way he was playing me," Pansy's voice turns to ice at the end of sentence, and it sends a slight chill down my back. Weasel must've hurt her bad…

Ignoring her tone of voice, I concentrate on her words. "Playing me?"

"What, didn't Granger tell you?" she asks, and I can't tell whether she's genuinely surprised or not. Slytherin's don't like to give away their emotions.

"Obviously not," I mutter tonelessly.

"It was all a _bet_," Pansy says evenly, emerald eyes focussed on my own cool gray ones. A bet? What the fuck is Pansy on about? I ask her just that.

"Think about it, Draco," she tells me, "why would goody-two-shoes Granger go out with a Mudblood hating Malfoy? You know deep down that wouldn't go for a guy like you… it was all a bet that she and Ron made up"

I clench my fists, feeling my anger building up. Should I believe what she's saying? "What were the terms?"

Pansy's eyes flash with a deep hatred though she speaks in a mild voice, "what else but to get us to give up everything to be with them, and then leave us with nothing"

I stare at her. _What?_

Of course I had thought it odd how Hermione suddenly went from despising to adoring me… I did everything I could annoy, ignore and reject her during the first few months after that leadership training. But eventually I gave up and began to see all her good points. Though right now, as far as I am concerned… she has none.

"I don't believe you," I manage to get out. Pansy glowers at me.

"Do you always have to be so damn stubborn?" she hisses, "I figured you'd be too dense to see the truth, which is why I want you to come with me"

I eye her suspiciously, "where?"

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I never knew Pansy had a Pensieve? Glancing sideways at her, I'm surprised to see the usually confident Pansy Parkinson looking slightly hesitant.

"Are we just going to stand here?" I drawl, glancing around the empty girl's dormitory. Pansy shoots me a look and takes out her wand. As though prodding and pushing around the thoughts, she frowns for a second.

"Okay, here we go…" she murmurs, and I feel a distinct sinking feeling. Looking into the Pensieve, I start to feel like I'm falling. Though I only closed my eyes for a brief second, when I open it again, I find myself standing outside the Three Broomsticks. Pansy is standing beside me.

"We might as well go inside," she sighs.

The Three Broomsticks is crowded with students, professors and other witches and wizards. Sitting in the back corner of the room is Pansy and Ron Weasley. It was the weekend, and they had mugs of Butterbeer sitting in front of them.

Moving closer to the table, I wave my hand in front of their faces but they don't react in the slightest. With a small shrug of my shoulders, I sit on an empty chair close by and listen in their conversation. It sounds anything but happy.

"What do you mean, you want to break up?" Pansy demands, her voice low and menacing.

Ron looks nervous as he glances everywhere but at Pansy. "I mean, it… uh, it was a mistake!"

Pfft, how the hell did Pansy manage to fall for this loser? Right now though, Pansy is looking anything but impressed with Ron's answer.

"I don't see how you can suddenly change your mind…" she growls.

Ron sighs and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "If you really want to know," he mumbles, "there was nothing to change in the first place. I… well, I never_ liked you like that"_

Ouch. Poor Pansy… I turn to see how she's taking this. Judging from the expression on her face, I'd say 'not too well'.

"What are you talking about?" she asks, though her voice has lost its cool edge and sounds slightly uncertain. Looking over my shoulder at the real_ Pansy, I'm not surprised to see her looking the other way in disgust. Not doubt this is one scene that she wants to forget… no wonder she was hesitant about showing it to me._

"Please, Pansy…" Ron says, looking worried, "don't cry!"

I can't help myself, I just have to laugh. The real Pansy knocks me over the head and mentions for me to keep listening. Glaring at her, I rub my sore head and continue to pay attention.

"Cry?" Pansy explodes at Ron, "do you seriously think that I_ am going to _cry_ over _you 

Half the room falls quiet and Ron blushes furiously. Whatever guilt he had felt for dumping Pansy vanished as hard look came over his features. "You want to know why I never liked you?" he asked, his voice regaining its confidence as the other customers went back to their own business, "because it's impossible to love someone like you!"

Pansy's eyes go wide at this comment, "excuse me?"

"You're a Slytherin… you have no feelings," Ron said, faltering slightly. Hmm… maybe those Gryffindors are more prejudice than I had originally thought. "If you really want to know the truth, this was all a setup… Hermione and I --"

"Hermione?" Pansy cut in, incredulously, "just what does that Mudblood have to do with anything?"

Ron grits his teeth, "don't call her a Mudblood"

"Well, she is_… isn't she?" Pansy counters in a logical tone of voice. Ron shakes his head in disbelief._

"You know what?" he asks, looking back up at her, "I was having second thoughts about this whole bet. But now I realise that Hermione was right all along, you and Malfoy do need to be taught a lesson"

My head snaps around at the mention of my name and I turn to stare sharply at Ron. This was beginning to get interesting. Pansy looks just as sharply at Ron as I am.

"Taught a lesson?" she repeats in a low voice.

Ron swallows, but seems determined not to lose his edge. "The day before we met up with you at that leadership program, Hermione and I were talking about how unfit you and Draco are to be Prefects," he says, "I mean, Prefects are supposed to lead the other students and set a good example. If everyone were to follow in your and Draco's footsteps though… well, what can I say? The world would be doomed, more or less"

"Oh, because you_ set a much better example, don't you?" Pansy sneers._

Ron shakes his head and makes a move as though to stand up, "I'm not sure why I even bother with this… I'm leaving"

Pansy just stares as Ron weaves his way in and out around the tables and starts towards the door. The real_ Pansy grabs my arm and drags me out after him. I frown as I look around outside where Ron is standing._

"What's the deal with this?" I ask, "you're still inside, so why is the Pensieve allowing us to go outside"

"It fills in the blanks?" she suggests with a nonchalant shrug and signals for me to pay attention as the other Pansy slams open the door to the Three Broomsticks and storms up to Ron.

"There is no way in hell that I am going to let you leave me like this," Pansy says, staring hard at Ron. Weasley, who is already looking miserable, glances down at his feet.

"I'm sorry…" he half-whispers, "it was a bet that went a bit far"

"All this time, it was a stupid bet!" she hisses, "all my friends have abandoned me, I'm made fun of by the other Slytherins and Snape doesn't even favour me anymore… and it was all because of a bet?"

"It wasn't just because_ of the bet… it _was_ the bet," Ron mutters, purposely avoiding her gaze. For a second he looks over in the direction where I'm standing as though he knew I was there. Which, of course, is impossible._

"Would you like to clarify that a bit?"

"Hermione and I made a bet with a couple other Gryffindors that we can make you and Malfoy give up everything that made you… well, you 

"That didn't exactly clarify anything," Pansy spits, arms folded across her chest.

Sighing, Ron kicks at the ground with his foot. "We've always had to put up with you Slytherins… all the teasing, snide remarks, insults… well, when you and Malfoy were made prefect, we decided that we wanted to do something to knock you off your pedestal that you're so fond of. We wanted you_ to know how it felt to be laughed at and mocked."_

There is a short silence as both Pansy and I tried to process what Weasel has just said. Hermione was in on the bet? Fuck, fuck, fuck… how could've I been so damn stupid? Glaring hard at Ron, all I want to do it beat him to a bloody pulp… him and his dog Granger too.

"Well…" Pansy says quietly, finally breaking the silence, "congratulations. It worked"

Without another word, she walks off down the lane, leaving Ronald Weasley by himself outside the Three Broomsticks. Walking along side the Pensieve Pansy, I'm not too surprised to see the hard emotion of hurt in her eyes. Without warning, I feel lighter like something is dragging me through the air.

"Okay, well… I think that's enough of that…" Pansy says, standing in front of me with one hand on her hip. I look around to find myself back in the girls' dormitory. On the _floor_ of the girls' dormitory... Looking up at the sultry brunette in front of me, I take note of the flashes of emotion passing through her eyes. Now, I'm not the one to go analyzing emotions and people's feelings… in fact, I tend to think of emotion as a person's weakness. Unless, of course, it's something useful like wanting revenge.

Revenge.

That's the look that I'm reading in Pansy's flashing emerald eyes now. I'm sure sees the same thing in my own cold eyes… revenge on Hermione Granger. The perfect Gryffindor prefect who thinks she's so great because she and Weasel managed to outsmart Pansy and I. Oh, is she going to pay for messing with me…

Getting up off the floor, I dust off my coal black robe. Pansy is leaning against the post of her bed as she watches me carefully, looking to see how I reacted to the Pensieve.

"Why did you show me that?" I ask, though I know the answer already.

Pansy looks away for a split second before locking her eyes on mine. "Ron hurt me," she said evenly, without any trace of emotion, "and I know that Granger hurt you just as bad. What I want to know is… what are you going to do about it?"

Well now, this was getting more interested. What _am _I going to do about it?

"Revenge," I mutter, barely audible. But Pansy has sharp hearing and she smiles cruelly at my reply.

"That's exactly what I was hoping you would say," she says with an arch of her eyebrow, "but before we do that, what do you say we show the other Slytherins who's who around here? They've become way too soft in our _absence…_"

I match her smile with a smirk of my own. Her idea sounding better and better all the time… I've had just about enough of being mocked by the other Slytherins. It was much more fun when I wasn't the laughing stock of the school, when the other Slytherins would cater to my every whim and needs and shrink back under my glare… ah, the good old days…

Granger and Weasel had better watch out.

Slytherin's Prince and Princess are back…

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«--.dangerous-fox.- - please review

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I had this posted up earlier, but took it down to re-edit it a bit. Please review and let me know what you think... whether I continue or not really depends on how interested people are in the story. So please let me know! Thanks


	2. Snap and Crash 'P

Like a Rose

dangerous-fox

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"Love is much like a rose; beautiful and calm, yet willing to draw blood in its defense"

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Chapter Two » Pansy's POV

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Three weeks into the new school year, and I'm the laughing stock of the whole bloody house. No, I take that back… not only are the Slytherin's laughing at me, but every other student in every other house is too. Probably more so.

I hate this.

I hate Ronald Weasley.

When I had been made prefect at the beginning of my fifth year, I had been elated and a little bit relieved. Though, when I had told my parents about it, I had pretended that it was nothing special. I know for a fact that my father didn't think that it was anything special. He didn't even look up from where he had been sitting and reading the Daily Prophet. All I got was a short non-committal grunt.

Both of my parents had been prefects when they were at Hogwarts, so I suppose it wasn't really such a big deal in my family. But still… you'd think that he might have offered some sort of sign to show that he's proud.

My mother, on the other hand, was quite openly rapt with the news and bought me a new dress-robe. One that I had been eyeing for quite a while. "My precious little girl… a _prefect_!" she had murmured under her breath while reading the letter, "well, of course! Who else would they give it to…? That beastly Bulstrode girl? Heaven forbid… even _Dumbledore_ would have more sense than _that_!"

A week before sixth year was due to start, Dumbledore decided that he wanted to hold a special 'leadership training' day for all prefects and head students. A load of crap, in my opinion. But still, if I wanted to keep up the 'good girl' routine that I had gotten into the habit of putting on, I had to attend.

Yes, I do in fact have a 'good girl' routine.

You see, I learnt early on, that in order to be successful in the world (regardless whether it is Muggle or Wizarding), you had to be well liked. And everyone knows that acting bitchy doesn't exactly get you a lot of friends. Normally, I wouldn't give a stuff about friends, but father had made it clear that he has high standards set. He wants his little girl to be a powerful witch. How to achieve that?

Suck up to the adults.

And only the adults… who gives a fuck about the students? I don't.

So while the teachers, with the exception of Snape, think I'm the model student (second only to that mudblood - Granger), the students know better.

Walking onto the Hogwart's Express to get to the school a week early, I hadn't been too surprised to see Malfoy lounging in the corner seat of the prefect's carriage. Who else would the other prefect be, but Draco Malfoy? However, I was most definitely surprised and extremely agitated to find that we were to spend a whole week with Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. I mean, okay… Hermione was pretty much a given for prefect… but _Weasley_? What in the Dark Lord's name, was that old crack-pot Dumbledore _thinking_?!

Draco and I had exchanged a brief, amused look. Our bets had been on Potter for prefect.

Thinking back on it, I wish that it had been Harry Potter who was prefect. After all, I'm sure that he never would've agreed to some stupid bet like Ron and Hermione did. He's much too honest to do something deceitful like that. The epitome of a perfect Gryffindor. Geez, it makes me sick. I'm also surprised that Hermione would do something underhand like purposely tricking another student to fall in love… so, my conclusion? It must've been Ron's idea. He _is_ the type to come up with stupid, insipid ideas like that. He acts on his emotions – something that is always extremely dangerous to do in the wizarding world. Nothing gets you killed quicker than that… which is why I am always sure to keep my emotions in check. So what if others (minus the adults) think that I'm an Ice Queen? Better a live cold-hearted bitch than a dead lovable fool.

Ronald Weasley is exactly that… the biggest, lovable fool that you'll ever meet.

_Snap_.

"Oh, fuck," I mutter, looking down to find that I had broken my quill in half. Reaching into my robes, I pull out my wand and mutter, "_reparo_". The two halves join back together and repair themselves. Once it's as good as new again, I set it down on the table and look up distractedly when I hear snickers of laughter.

It's breakfast time, and I'm in the Great Hall, trying to get my Potions homework done. Millicent Bulstrode is sitting opposite me, her bulldog like face contorted into a sneer. What really irks me, is that while I was busy dating Ron, Millicent had somehow managed to take my place as Slytherin's Ice Princess.

"What's the matter, Pansy?" she asks snidely, "haven't done your homework yet?"

A couple Slytherin's around her laugh rudely. Oh yeah, because what she said was just fuckin' _hilarious_…

I stare back at her coolly, my green eyes drifting downward to rest on her homework that is laid in front of her. "Give me your work," I demand.

She blinks for a minute or two, slightly taken aback. I hadn't given her an order in such a long time, since before I lost my mind and went out with that red headed jerk. Her hand automatically moves to comply with my command, before she stops. Millicent shakes her head adamantly, "_no_, I'm not your little lap dog anymore, Pansy. You do your own crap from now on"

I push back my chair and stand up suddenly, causing her to shrink back a little bit. I'm not a very big girl… in fact, I have a slim, petite form. That Millicent Bulstrode, a troll of a girl and twice my size, would shrink back, is highly amusing. At least, I think it is.

However, she quickly recovers and glares menacingly at me, "don't think that you intimidate me anymore, Pansy Parkinson… because you don't. You're not getting my work, and that is _it_. I spent all night working on this"

"Fine," I shrug nonchalantly, "but good luck explaining to Snape why you don't have your work done"

She eyes me suspiciously, "what are you on about?"

Without a word, I reach across the table and take her parchment before she can stop me. I fold it in two and proceed to rip in half again and again. "Oh, oops," I sigh, "now look at what I've done…" Smiling innocently at her, I scatter the scraps of paper into the orange juice pitcher.

Millicent Bulstrode stares at the pitcher, her mouth agape and eyes wide. The other students around us just stare at me with a tiny bit of respect. It's something that the _old_ Pansy would've done… not the _new_ push over Pansy…

Gathering up my parchments and quill, I turn my back on the whole lot of them and beginning to walk away from the hall. Once I'm looking away, the smile drops from my face and is replaced by a scowl. I can't believe that bitch wouldn't let me copy her homework. Now what the fuck am I going to do?

_Crash_.

Oh, _now what_? Eyes flashing furiously, I look up sharply to see who the hell had just smacked into me.

Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley.

Well now, doesn't that just brighten up my day? Not.

Harry is avoiding my gaze, already stooped and picking up my fallen parchments and quill. Ron has turned red and is just standing there, hands wringing nervously. "Uh, hey Pansy…" he mumbles out, "how are y-?"

He is stopped abruptly by my glare. Harry breaks the silence when he stands up and hands me my things. "Sorry, Pansy," he says apologetically, "we - uh - weren't watching where we were going"

"What are you apologising to _her_ for?" Ron demands to know in hushed voice to Harry, "it is as much her fault as it is ours!"

Snatching my homework away from Potter, I keep my eyes trained on the freckled-face Gryffindor. I'm about to snap out some rude comment straight back to him, when a short shadow falls upon the three of us. It's Professor Flitwick. "Something the matter here?" he squeaks, looking up at us.

I bite my lip to keep from screaming in frustration. _Must play the model prefect act_… I remind myself in my head while taking a deep breath to calm myself. "Not at all, professor," I say with a tight-lipped smile, before looking over meaningfully at Potter and Weasley, "we're fine… aren't we?"

Ron and Harry exchange dark glances. They're used to my sucking up to the teachers, but I don't think that they're too happy about it. Well, tough luck. As long as I keep on the good side of the teaching stuff, I can get away with more or less anything.

However, before they can reply or agree with me, another voice calls out from the crowd. "It's okay, Flitwick… Parkinson is just having a _lovers' spat_ with her _boyfriend_, Weasley!"

The students around us in the hall start sniggering and laughing.

Ron once again turns bright red. Me? I'm _seeing_ red… I'm positively seething. Even with Flitwick standing right beside me, it's all I can do to stop from pulling out my wand and cursing them all. "Excuse me," I mutter, before pushing Ron aside roughly and stalking away from the Great Hall. I could hear another comment and more laughter at my expense.

You just wait, Ronald Weasley… you just wait until I make your life a living hell. Think I'm a bitch now? Ha, you haven't seen anything yet.

"Something wrong, Princess?" a cool voice drawls the moment I storm into the Slytherin Commonroom. I look up distractedly to find the room empty, save for Draco Malfoy lounging on a seat in front of the fire - long legs kicked out in front of him and potion book open in his lap.

He sits there watching me nonchalantly with his calculating gray eyes.

Draco is just as much the laughing stock of the whole school as I am, how the fuck can he sit there so calm and unaffected?! In sheer frustration, I hurl my parchment and quill across the room, narrowly missing the fireplace. My quill snaps in half. Again.

"_Wrong_?" I ask sarcastically, "whatever the hell gave you _that_ idea?"

The corner of his lip curls up into an amused smile, though his eyes don't change. "What happened now?"

Walking around the couch, I fall back onto it and eye him suspiciously. Draco almost sounds like he actually cares… there must be some sort of catch. As if reading my mind, he lets out a dry chuckle. "Don't trust me, Parkinson?"

"Should I?"

"Probably not," he says with a shrug, "but who else are you going to tell all your woes to? No-one else in this whole damn school would listen to you"

I glower at him. Is he trying to be comforting? Because I have to say that he does a pretty crap job at it. "I miss my old life," I tell him, leaning my head back and closing my eyes, "I want to go back to the way it was before I-"

My eyes snap open suddenly. What the hell am I doing? I can't believe I was about to pour out all my troubles to another person! _Draco Malfoy_, of all people! Since I was a little girl, I had learnt (the hard way), that you can never trust anyone. Tell them your weakness and they'll only use it against you. Being in the Slytherin house has made me see how important it is to always be on your guard. Trust only yourself.

Hearing no response, I glance over to find that Malfoy has gone back to his potion homework. Pulling my wand out form my robe, I point it in the direction that I had thrown my work. "_Accio_," I mutter, watching as my parchment and quill rise up and flow towards me. Pocketing my wand, I snatch them out of the air and mend my quill. Again.

"Haven't done your potion work?" Draco asks amused, without once looking up from his notes.

I don't answer him.

Pulling a slightly crumpled parchment from the back of his potion book, he tosses it towards me.

It hits me on the side of my head.

Promptly shooting daggers at him, I pick it up and unscroll it. "You're letting my copy your potion homework?" I ask, once again suspicious. There _must_ be some ulterior motive.

Shutting him book, he gets up and stretches, looking immensely bored. "Can't have Pansy Parkinson, professor's pet, falling behind in class… now can we?" he replies, his voice mocking. I don't know whether to thank or strangle him. I choose to do neither.

"Something tells me that I'm not exactly Snape's favourite anymore," I grumble under my breath.

Draco rolls his eyes, "oh, and I wonder why that would be…?"

"Shut up. You're not exactly his favourite anymore, either," I point out, hurriedly copying out key notes form his essay on how Belladonna (also known as the 'deadly nightshade') can be used in various poisons and remedies. Unlike most guys I know, Draco has surprisingly neat handwriting. It has a lazy, yet immaculate, quality to it that matches his oh-so-_charming_ personality.

"You never did tell me what made you in such a bad mood this morning," he says, leaning back against a table and waiting for me to copy out my work. I reluctantly tell him about Millicent refusing to give me her work, and Ronald running into me in the Great Hall.

"Why didn't you curse him there and then?" he wants to know, "I know you probably thought about it"

"And risk getting expelled from Hogwarts for dueling in the corridors?" I reply emotionlessly, my eyes still skimming through the parchment, "unlike you, my parents can't get my out of every little thing here at the school. In order to keep my parents happy, I have to act like the perfect little angel… and that means _no_ cursing other students" - I pause briefly, thinking it over - "at least not when there are professors around to witness it"

Draco cocks an eyebrow but says nothing. I finish writing a conclusion before chucking it back to him. It would've hit him on the head, had he not caught it in time. Damn.

The Slytherin commonroom doors swing open, emitting a half dozen or so Slytherin students. Breakfast must be ending. The majority of these students ignore us, apart to casting us dirty glances every now and then. According to just about every Slytherin student, we're considered to be traitors.

One young Slytherin student, however, made the mistake of having ago at Draco while still within the prefect's striking distance. "Weren't at breakfast, Malfoy?" the young third year boy grins nastily, "why not? Your _girlfriend_ was there…"

He then proceeds to make some kissing actions, before laughing viciously. Wow, a _third_ year student? That has got to be a new low. Quick as lightning, Draco was on his feet, wand in one hand with his other clasped tightly around the front of the other student's robe. As the third year was fairly tiny, it didn't take much for Draco to lift him clear off his feet.

"Watch what the fuck you say," he growls, jaw tense, "you got that?"

The Slytherin students surrounding us all pause to watch. _This _is the Draco Malfoy that they all know and love. And fear. Unaware that every eye in the room is now trained on him, he waits for the boy to respond.

"Uh, ab-absolutely," the boy stutters, all previous courage having disappeared. He nods his head vigorously to show that he understands. Disgusted, Malfoy lets go of the others robe, dropping the third year to a crumpled heap on the ground.

Without a word or look back, he strides out of the commonroom angrily.

Highly amused, I hide a smile. It seems as though Draco isn't as calm and unaffected as I had originally thought. The moment the door is slammed behind him, the commonroom erupts in hushed voices. They know that something is up, but can't quite figure out what. First I snap at Millicent at breakfast, and then Draco at the poor boy.

It seems that only I am all that not surprised at what had just happened. After all, Draco and I decided that we would earn back the respect of the Slytherin House. And that is exactly what we are doing. The only question is... how long will it take?

We can't very well do much about Granger and Ron while we're still the laughing stock of the whole school, now can we? And I am _not_ a very patient person.

Packing up my stuff, I start back up towards the girl's dormitories to prepare for my first lesson of the day.

Double Potions with Gryffindor.

Doesn't that just sound like a whole heap of fun? Not.

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«--.dangerous-fox.- - please review

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A huge thank-you to everyone that has reviewed! I have exams coming up in two weeks, so there won't be an update before then… but I'll try to get one up afterwards. Hope you're liking this story so far. I'm kinda winging it at the moment, but hopefully it'll turn out in the end. Comment and feedback welcome. It's been a while since I read the Harry Potter series, so sorry if some things aren't consistent. I also haven't watched the movies (and don't intend to), so if some things differ from how they're portrayed in the cinema, sorry for that too.

BEBii GiRL x3 » Ehlonna » Smiley Face3 » sugarbomb53086 » Slytherin-girl TF lover » Jeni-nite

Please continue to review to let me know whether you're still interested or not. ) Updates depend on the reviews. I get motivated and de-motivated (is that a word?) very easily… it's a flaw that I need to work on.

Just on another note, there is such a thing as belladonna (deadly nightshade), and I _think_ it can be used in remedies and poisons? Can't remember...


	3. The End Justifies the Mean 'D

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Like A Rose

dangerous-fox

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"Love is much like a rose; beautiful and calm, yet willing to draw blood in its defense"

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Chapter Three » Draco's POV

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It doesn't take me all that much to get into a foul mood… but it does take a lot to calm me down afterwards. After that incident with that third year in the commonroom, I felt in no mood to go and play nice with the Gryffindors in Potions. Not I would ever play 'nice'.

Not with Gryffindors.

No way.

Not with anyone, actually… come to think of it. Since when does a Malfoy play 'nice'? Hell, I barely know the meaning of the word.

Damn, I should've taken my Firebolt out to the Quidditch Pitch… diving through the air is probably the only thing that will get me fully calm. Turning down the corridor I head down the steps.

"Mr. Malfoy," a stern voice snaps out at me, "shouldn't you be in class?"

A freeze, a deep scowl crossing my features. Just my fucking luck to have been spotted by Professor McGonagall. Taking a deep breath to keep from losing my temper, I turn around to face her. "Yes, professor," I say tightly, "I'm heading there now"

"With no books?" she inquires.

"Already there," I lie.

"You are a prefect, Mr. Malfoy…" she says, from where she is standing at the top of the stair case, arms crossed, "I expect you to set a good example for those in the younger years. You will be lucky if your professor doesn't take any points of Slytherin for your tardiness"

I allow myself a small smirk. "I have Professor Snape first," I say, before turning stalking around the corner. No matter how much he may hate me now, Snape wouldn't take any points away from Slytherin. McGonagall knows this, and would've taken the points away herself if I had waited around long enough.

As much as I can't stand the thought of double potions with Gryffindor, I make my way down to the dungeons.

"Finally decided to join us, Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Snape's questions with a dangerous arch of his brow. He draws his lips into a thin line and gestures to a seat at the side of the room, "take a seat and be glad that I will not take any points off Slytherin"

I don't reply, but make my way across the room, head held high - ignoring all the gazes and glares from Slytherin and Gryffindor students alike. There are two empty seats… one next to Pansy Parkinson, and one next to Harry Potter.

Three guesses as to where I chose to sit.

"Any reason why you're late?" Pansy asks, idly copying down notes from the board in her neat, cursive handwriting.

"Any reason why you care?" I snap back, still not in the best of moods.

She doesn't glance my way, but the corner of her lips twists up into a cruel smile. "But who else are you going to tell your woes to? No-one else in this whole damn school would listen to you," she says, mocking me. I glare at her and she snickers. "What's the matter, Malfoy? Don't trust me?"

I'm saved from answering that as the pattering of footsteps is heard making their way down the stone steps to the dungeon. None other than Hermione Granger comes panting into the room, bushy brown hair awry. Just as they had when I entered the room, all eyes flew up to watch the newcomer.

Only difference is that the Gryffindors look to her as some kind of hero.

It makes me sick.

Snape pursed his lips and his eyes flashed as he turned away from the board to watch her. "Miss Granger," he murmurs in an icy tone so cold that several students in the front row shiver, "I do _not_ appreciate having my class interrupted… particularly by your tardiness. Explain yourself"

Hermione froze on her way over to sit by Harry. "I, uh-"

"I'm afraid you'll have to do better than that if you want to avoid a detention," Snape cut through her stuttering smoothly.

Ronald Weasley stands up indignantly. "What?" he burst out, unable to contain himself, "but Malfoy came sauntering in here just as late as she was… and I didn't hear you threatening him with a detention!"

"_Mr. Weasley_!" Snape barks out, livid at the interruption, "unless you contain yourself _now_, you will be joining Miss. Granger in her detention!"

"Come on, Ron…" Harry murmurs under his breath, "ease up…"

"20 points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger," Snape says, returning his chilly gaze back to the other Gryffindor Prefect, "be thankful that it isn't more than that… now take your seat. And as for you, Mr. Weasley - 10 points from Gryffindor"

Weasel looks prepared to jump to his feet again, and probably would have, if it weren't for Potter shooting him a warning glance. Damn Potter, I would've loved to see Weasley get himself into a detention.

As the room settles down again, Snape turns back to the board and waves his wand, wiping it clean. Several shouts of protests arise… along the lines of - "hey, I wasn't finished yet!"

"Well, that's your bad luck," Snape snaps, "I gave you plenty of time to get it all down. There will be a test on it next lesson"

"What the fuck was it even on?" I question Pansy, who doesn't really look all that fazed.

"What, weren't you here?" she asks with mock surprise, "oh, that's right… you were too busy getting down and dirty with your Mudblood girlfriend"

I stare at her, too shocked to get worked up. I'd expect this from other people, but _Pansy Parkinson_? She was supposed to be on _my_ side, damn it! "What are you on about?" I hiss, eyes growing hard and cold.

She looks directly at me, green eyes accusing, "I'm not an idiot, Malfoy"

"Well, you sure are acting like one"

"You expect me to believe that you and Granger happened to both be late to Potions, and then turn up at around the same time?"

Oh, crap.

If I had been in her position, I probably would have thought the same thing.

Glancing around the room swiftly with my gray eyes, I note the gossiping whispers and smirks that seem to be going around the room like some sort of contagious disease. So much for building back my reputation… something tells me that it just got shredded to pieces all over again.

This is all _her_ fault.

I wouldn't be surprised if she deliberately came late to Potions just to make me look worse.

No, actually… I would be. She would never risk losing any points for Gryffindor.

In that case… what the hell _had_ she been doing?

Turning back to Pansy, I reach out to grab her notes. With surprising quickness, she takes hold of my wrist in her slender fingers. "Any reason why I should let you copy my notes?" she asks, still not in a forgiving mood.

"I haven't seen Granger all morning. I have no idea why she was late, but it has absolutely nothing to do with me," I tell her evenly, feeling an odd need to explain myself. Funny, I've never had to explain myself to anyone else before. Not even my parents.

Her eyes narrow shrewdly, but she doesn't let go just yet.

I roll my eyes, "not a very trusting girl, are you?"

"It's not really in my nature to trust people"

"I let you copy my Potions homework this morning"

I grin slightly as I watch her hesitate. Just like I thought she would, she let go of my wrist. Pansy hates the idea of being in debt to some one else, and by letting me copy her notes - we're back on an even ground again.

"Who knew you liked holding my hand so much, Parkinson…" I drawl with an amused look in her direction.

"Just shut up and copy down the notes"

"Yes, ma'am"

Pansy goes on to take down the fresh batch of notes off the board as I take her old ones. From the corner of my eye, I watch as Hermione and Ron exchanged hushed whispers and notes. What are they up to now? Do I even want to know?

Hell, yes.

The rest of Potions goes past without anything of very much interest happening. Once class is dismissed though, I stand up without bothering to gather my books (as I have none) and grab Hermione's arm as we walk out of the classroom. Ignoring the snickers, Snape's frown and Pansy's death glare - I pull my ex-girlfriend into an empty room.

Once we're out of view from everyone else, she yanks her arm out from grasp and glares angrily at me. "Just what do you think you are doing, Malfoy! Are you nuts?" she demands to know, shaking slightly. From rage or from fear, I have no idea.

What am I doing?

I have no fucking idea.

It was a spur of the moment thing. Damn, I'm getting as bad as Weasley - acting without giving any thought to what happens next. Shuddering at the idea that I could be sinking to a whole new low, I eye the Gryffindor girl in front of me.

I feel love and hate for her all at once.

Right now though, as she stares up at me irritated, I feel a whole lot more anger than love.

"Why didn't you tell me about the bet?" I ask quietly, eyes never leaving her own. She flinches as though I had slapped her.

"I… uh, well - " she takes a deep breath, avoiding my gaze, "I-"

"You really have to get over this stammering stage of yours, 'Mione," I chide, using her nickname that she had told me to use when we were going out.

Going out.

I don't think I'll ever get over the fact that I went out with a Mudblood. Especially one that I had spent my junior years at Hogwarts hating. I'd rather forget it.

I wonder if there's a potion to help me achieve just that?

They've got potions for everything now a days… and if not a potion, then at least some sort of spell.

When it becomes clear that I'm still waiting for her to answer, Hermione bites down on her lip. I've noticed that she does that a lot when she's not sure of something - or when she's nervous. I used to find it annoying, then I found it cute… now I find it annoying again.

"Why do you think I didn't tell you?" she asks quietly.

I don't know what sort of response I had expected… or hoped for… but somehow, the fact that she didn't even deny that there was a bet pissed me off. I felt my jaw tense up as my eyes narrow. Recognising the warning signs, Hermione shifted the books around in her arms and reached for her wand.

I would never hit a girl, and she knew that. I may be a bastard from Slytherin most of the time, but I had been brought up as a gentleman in other areas. But despite all this, she was still scared of me.

With good reason.

"Look, Draco…" she says, still using her calm, soothing tone to try and placate me, "can we just talk?"

"What do you think we're doing now?"

She bites back a comment, and I fight the urge to punch my fist into the stone wall. But I'm smart enough to know that it'd probably mean a trip to the hospital wing if I did.

Turning my back on her, I try to calm myself down. I lean back against an empty desk, with my arms crossed in front of me, "you're nothing but a hypocrite, Hermione"

In my mind I could see Hermione's face flush a deep crimson colour as she sputters about angrily. "Me?" she calls out, stomping around so that she's in my line of vision. Yep, she's flushed a red colour now.

"As far as I know, you're the only freak in this school with the name 'Hermione'. No other parents would be that cruel," I drawl, knowing that she'll get riled up at my taunts.

Past caring about any consequences, which is rare for her, she raises her voice slightly, "do you want to know _why_ I made that stupid bet with Ron?"

"Not particularly, no"

She ignores me. "It's all because of your '_I'm-better-than-everyone-else_' attitude… this bullshit façade that you put on to make other people's lives hell!" she yells, hand clenched tightly around her wand and books, "all I was doing was knocking you off that pedestal that-"

I cut her off with a disgusted look, "have you and Weasel practiced this speech in front of the mirror or something?"

She looks taken aback, "what?"

"Don't go preaching to me, Granger, because I'm not in the mood," I growl, uncrossing my arms and pushing myself off the table, "and quite frankly - you're not really in any place to lecture me. I meant what I said before when I said that you were a hypocrite"

"I don't see how-"

"No, you wouldn't," I sneer, standing up close. I'll give her some credit for not backing down… "because you're Hermione Granger. Little miss perfect, top student and prefect-"

"I'm not sure if it skipped your mind, Draco, but you're a prefect too," she points out. I choose to ignore that.

"- you only made this bet for the good of mankind, am I right? I mean, lord forbid that you should do anything so despicable as play around with another person's life and love without having some goody-two-shoes reason to back it up!" I sneer sarcastically, "me - I'm a bastard and I readily admit it, okay? I fuck around with other's lives and I couldn't care less… but at least I admit it. At least I don't hide a mask and pretend my actions are something that they're not"

"Stop it, Draco!" Hermione yells, finally taking a step back and trying to get my attention, "you have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Why don't you enlighten me then?" I yell back, "because apparently I don't have a fricken' clue here!"

She falters for a minute while I wait for her to respond. When she can't come up with a coherent reply, I start talking again. My voice is lowered, but every inch as dangerous and scary as it had been when I was yelling.

"Do you even know what a hypocrite is, Hermione? It's some one who professes to hold a certain belief or opinion… and then turns around and does exactly what they appear to be against. In your case, you've preached to me countless times about how I should 'think about others' and 'the way that I make them feel'", I say, mocking her know-it-all voice by raising mine slightly, "there was one that I particularly liked… what was it? Oh yeah, 'don't play around with other people's lives like it means nothing to you. They're not puppets, Draco'. Well, tell me this, Hermione… what the fuck have you been doing with my life if not playing around with it like a puppet master? Seriously now, because I'm very interested to hear"

"How dare you compare the two of us," she grinds out in a soft voice, eyes filled with emotion, "we are _not _alike. Okay, so maybe I did mess around with your life a bit… but you deserved it!"

"Oh, so let me get this straight. It's okay to screw around with people's lives if they deserve it?" I question, eyebrows arched and with a feigned look of surprise.

"Yes! I mean, no…" she closes her eyes in frustration before opening them again, "stop twisting my words around! You, Draco… you put others down and make their lives hell for no other reason than for your own enjoyment. Me? I had no choice"

"Oh, come now, Hermione… you're smarter than that. You don't expect me to believe that there had been no choice, do you? Just admit it! Some part of you was excited at the idea of fucking up my life. Some part of you wanted revenge… Hell, some part of you probably enjoyed it!"

"No!"

"Yes! There were probably half a dozen different ways to _knock me off my pedestal_, and yet you decided to go and do the very thing that you are - or should I say _were_ - so against. You played around with my life, and now you stand there denying it. You make me sick"

Hermione swallows hard, fighting to keep her voice steady. "I'm not denying it"

"Then what are you doing?"

She doesn't answer for a while. Her brown eyes look away for a minute or two before resting back on my cold, gray ones. "The end justifies the mean," she says so softly that I almost miss it, "the end justifies the mean"

The saying hits me harder than I had thought it would. Nearly all anger drains away from my voice, leaving me feeling tired. Shaking my head slowly, I head towards the exit. I pause in the doorway and look back over my shoulder to where she staring blankly at the wall.

"_The end justifies the mean_ - is that what you keep telling yourself, Hermione?" I ask quietly, before looking away again, "just remember… say it too often and it'll start to lose all meaning"

As I walk out the door, I swear I heard her murmur something to herself - "it already has"

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.dangerous-fox. - please review

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I'm on holidays now, but so is my muse apparently. Took me a while to get this written up, sorry… I haven't proof read it yet, so there might be some mistakes. I might fix it up later. Don't know yet what to think of this and reviews would be greatly appreciated. As part of my homework over the holidays for French, I've borrowed Harry Potter - "_à l'école des sorciers_". It's taking me forever to translate, I'm still on the second page… Mr. Dursley has just left for work. Anyway, thanks for all the reviews - please keep them coming!

Slytherin-girl TF lover » Lady Phedre » BEBii GiRL x3 » steffie » Ehlonna » Lilybee2003 » vegiegurl » Drucilla Black » DivineAngel143 » Crys (thanks for letting me know about the PP category!) » kelsey » Lone Wolf55

EDIT: This QuickEdit thing is going to drive me insane!!


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